


Lessons Learned

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Justice, Masturbation, Murder, Other, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8027497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Marie says goodbye to an important figure from her pastI went through some awful things. People I love have also been through some awful things. This story is one of the ways I process those feelings.Mr. Duvitz is a made-up character, as is Marie. They are composites of the various victims and perpetrators I've known.





	Lessons Learned

Marie entered the hospital room quietly. Mr. Duvitz appeared to be sleeping, and she watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest for a moment. How long had it been? Marie thought of how innocent all people looked as they slept. 

"Mr. Duvitz? Do you remember me?"

His eyes fluttered open, the shock of recognition pooling with his tears.

"It's been a long time, Mr. Duvitz."

He tried to speak, but the muscles of his face wouldn't obey his brain's messages. The head trauma had triggered a stroke, and the road to recovery would be long - perhaps longer than he had.

Marie sat down, pulling the chair closer to the bed. Intimately close.

"They say you shouldn't go home, that if you've moved away, you can't go back. I'm glad I didn't listen. When I heard about what happened to you, I knew I had to see you."

John's mouth twitched, his waxen lips making a sort of raspberry sound, but no intelligible words were forthcoming.

"Shh. It's alright. There's no need. Just listen."

Marie rummaged in her pocket for something, the gloss of her name-badge catching her eye for a brief moment. God bless Estelle for lending her the nurse uniform, or she'd never have been able to make this visit.

Finding what she sought, she retrieved it, the tiny vial which would take care of everything. The needle exchange program at another local hospital had been most obliging; after all, hygiene and safety were important - even for the dying.

"May I call you John? I recall you preferred it once upon a time."

His eyes grew wide as she fitted the vial to the needle, prepping it. Marie's hand on his arm was warm, but to John, it was the cold grip of death. The nurse call button was beyond his grasp, and he tried to get up, to move from the bed - but his legs were useless and uncooperative.

"Now now, John. You must have your medicine."

The needle slid home, the contents burning in his vein as she pushed the plunger all the way up. 

"We have a little time, John. I have some things to say."

He leaned back, his head swimming. 

"I was so upset when I heard about the accident, thinking I wouldn't get this chance to say goodbye. What a relief it was to hear that you could still understand what was said, that you were conscious.."

Her hand slid beneath the white hem of her nurse's tunic. John couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I remember you used to love this." Anyone peering into the small window of the closed door would've seen nothing but the back of her, a nurse sitting with a stroke patient, easing his distress. Mr. Duvitz saw as her hand parted her thighs, finding her clit.

She began to recount all the times he'd hurt her, beginning when she was just six years old and he'd been her teacher, offering to babysit of an evening while her mother worked. She told of every incident she could recall, culminating in the time he'd finally fully raped her, stripping her of every last shred of innocence when she was just eleven. She had told, and still he had gotten away with it. 

"All those times. All those lies. How many other children were there, John? What was the last one's name? Wendy? The one whose father found you with a mysterious head injury?"

He groaned, only it came out as more of a gurgle. Marie's fingers moved faster, her face flushed.

"I know how to do it quietly, John. You taught me that. You never made a sound above a whisper, when you violated me. You just whimpered and grunted and sighed, and then you - "

Marie watched as he began to twitch, his eyes white, his pupils pinpricks within that creamy base.

"Can you feel it, John? Can you feel your body shutting down?"

She wasn't sure how long it would be; this drug was so unpredictable. Whether it was fast or slow, she'd be gone soon. Only a few more minutes.

"Rot in hell, John. Rot in hell with the memories. Do you know how many of your 'students' are drug users? How many are in prison? How many took their own lives?"

His body stiffened, then went slack, his vision washing red. The rhythm of his heart was erratic, but Marie had disconnected anything that might register his distress. No code blue for him.

"Oh.." She watched him, hatred burning like laser-beams from her eyes. He couldn't look away. Marie watched the fear rising in him, his face twisting in pain. He was dying; God, YES, he was dying in agony and terror, and she was cumming - cumming until she had to grip the bedrail to steady herself, soaking the chair.

John could hear the demons calling his name, laughing. Too late. Too late.

She stilled, then rearranged her clothing, covering her naked sex. The sounds he made were pitiful, choking, hiccupping pleas for mercy without words. Marie was sorry she had to leave, but the jet would be warming up on the tarmac; with the shift change, she'd be on borrowed time. Argentina beckoned. No extradition.

There was nothing more to say; he was falling into himself, and she'd already done what she needed to do. He would never hurt anyone ever again. He was in pain, and no one could help him. It would have to be enough.

As she closed the door behind her, she felt that she could finally move forward. Nobody there would know her; they would only have whatever backstory she chose to share.

Mr. Duvitz would no longer exist, erased from her past, and from the past of everyone else he'd hurt.

He had taught her many things in and out of school. The greatest lessons were to take without guilt and to act without mercy.

Lessons learned.


End file.
